


Entitlement

by dornfelder



Series: Night and Morning [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-17
Updated: 2012-01-17
Packaged: 2017-10-29 17:06:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/322167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dornfelder/pseuds/dornfelder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin wakes up in Arthur's bed. With predictable consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Entitlement

**  
Entitlement   
**

Coming awake is a gradual process. Merlin realises bit by bit that things are rather different from what he is used to early in the morning.

The mattress is soft and smooth, unlike the lumpy, straw-made one Merlin usually sleeps on. The blankets are also soft and made of linen and downs instead of mere scratchy wool, and there are _furs_ on top of them. The pillow is thick and fluffy and _big_.

Also, it's really warm. Comfortable. Someone is breathing deep and steadily right next to his ear, someone who's radiating additional heat like a furnace. The leg entangled with his – knee wedged in between Merlin's shins – feels hot. Not to mention, it's also quite hairy, muscular, and definitely male, as is the half-hard bulge that's pressed into Merlin's thigh.

Realisation hits, followed by recollection, followed by immediate fear.

He's in Arthur's bed. And not only in Arthur's bed, he is in Arthur's bed with _Arthur in it_ , and that would be the perfect moment to freak out and run away shrieking like a maiden in fear of her virtue, except that maybe Merlin still has a chance to get away unnoticed before Arthur wakes up –

“Merlin?”

 _Bugger._

Arthur stirs, blinking slowly, and Merlin freezes and waits for the inevitable temper-tantrum to happen, already preparing to make a run for the door while ducking from the many possible, hard-edged missiles within Arthur's reach.

Arthur's eyes, sleepy and confused, are incredibly blue up close, and Merlin swallows hard and stares at him, not daring to speak. A slow smile spreads on Arthur's face, closer to a smirk, actually.

Merlin thinks he should really get away now. Arthur's hand – when did Arthur's hand get there, actually? - is tightening its hold on the small of Merlin's back before he can make himself move. “You know what happens when you sneak in the Crown Prince's bed, Merlin, don't you?”

Merlin licks his lips, nervously, and Arthur's grin broadens. “Er... no? Sire.”

“Said Crown Prince is entitled to take full advantage of the situation. Contemplating the fact that it was _you_ who got in here uninvited, and, I might add, without me being able to object against it – since I've been _asleep_ at the time, as you know very well – you absolutely brought this over yourself, and deserve any punishment I shall decide to inflict on you.”

Merlin knows better than to deny the accusation. The fact remains that he is still in Arthur's bed, and it _was_ him who decided to get in there after all. Even if he'd been downright delirious with exhaustion at the time. He wonders, though, was Arthur deems a suitable punishment for defiling his pristine, luxurious bed. He fleetingly thinks about the stables and chamberpot duty, even pictures the stocks for a long, unhappy moment.

Belatedly Merlin realises that not only Arthur has failed to withdraw from their close proximity so far, but the bulge in his loincloth has gone from its discrete, half-hard status to pretty much _all the way there_ , poking Merlin's thigh quite empathically. And still Arthur _doesn't budge._ That's a lot of new and distracting information to processs, so Merlin can't be held resposible for his own faiulure to get out of bed _right the fuck now._

And then it's much too late anyway, because Arthur dives into action, slides a hand under Merlin's shirt and all the way up his spine, and scratches down very gently, fingernails digging into Merlin's skin just with the right amount of pressure, and Merlin gasps and shudders helplessly. He blushes deeply, which makes Arthur look smug and amused and more than a little victorious.

Between Arthur's hands and his rock-hard cock, caught in the middle of it in a cocoon of heat that's getting more intense by the minute, Merlin is paralysed – heart beating madly with something akin to terror – and, at the same time, terribly aroused. When Arthur squeezes his right buttock, Merlin moans a little, closes his eyes, inhales Arthur's strong, musky scent in with a stuttering breath, and submits to whatever it is Arthur is planning for him. With every rational thought gone from his mind, all that's left to do is _feel_.

“Merlin,” Arthur whispers hoarsely, a question, maybe, and Merlin keeps his eyes shut and hums in reply, just a little. Arthur kisses him then, softly at first, growing bolder by the second, and Merlin lets his lips part and does the only thing he can: he kisses back, lazily, blissfully enjoying the sensation of giving in to Arthur's obvious dedication to the task.

It's a bit of a haze after that, how their remaining clothes come off until there's nothing left but the delicious slide of skin on skin, warm and smooth in a way that's nothing like Merlin remembers from the two, three times he did this with someone else. How Arthur turns them until Merlin's on his back, for once without the slightest inclination to protest against the way he's being manhandled. The fierce determination Arthur displays makes his stomach flutter with the most delicious feeling, makes him moan helplessly against Arthur's lips, and when Arthur pins his wrists over his head and holds him there, his whole body on display, Merlin sighs and arches against him, gratefully accepting the friction that is offered to him by the pressure of Arthur's strong thigh between his. He knows he's probably flushed all over, but so is Arthur, hair askew and pupils blown wide, looking as drugged and out of control as Merlin feels.

It doesn't take long after that, not long at all: moving together in a slow, sliding motion, Arthur's hips pushing against him in a rhythm that makes Merlin think of all the other things they can do, things much more intimate than just rubbing off against each other. That thought pushes him pushes him over the edge at last, breath hitching. He holds Arthur's gaze until the last moment, when his eyes close involuntarily as the orgasm hits him and he spills hot and slick all over their bellies. Arthur goes still at that, not moving for a second, two. He groans deep in his throat,like it's wrenched from him under torture, pushes forward desperately and comes with a shudder and a long, laboured breath.

Arthur collapses on top of him afterwards, smearing the sweet, sticky mess between them everywhere. Sweat is cooling on Merlin's skin, leaving him with a slightly ichty feeling, but he doesn't mind at all, quite pleased with this morning's surprising events, the perfect conclusion of which would be to catch some more hours of much-needed sleep.

Arthur slowly shifts his weight. Merlin smiles and closes his eyes, comfortable and exhausted in the very best of ways. Until Arthur chuckles maliciously, and shakes him awake. Merlin's eyes fly open, and he stares at Arthur without the slightest attempt to hide his annoyance. If the prat kicks him out of bed right now –

“I am _not_ ”, Arthur lets him know, “definitely _not_ done with you yet.” He smirks at Merlin's disbelieving expression.

“You broke me”, Merlin protests just for the sake of it. “I still need to sleep!”

“My bed, my rules,” Arthur tells him shortly. “And now, Merlin, kindly shut up.” His grin is downright dirty, feral, and Merlin's spine starts to tingle with a delicious kind of anticipation. “Lay back and think of Albion, if you must.”

And really, Merlin does shut up, but he doesn't think of Albion, or destiny, or all those secrets that still remain between them. He relishes in the way Arthur kisses him instead, like he's something precious, something treasured, and knows deep within that they've discovered a truth today which will help them shape their future _together_ , whatever may happen. It's just the dawn of a new day, a beginning; new, terrifying and wonderful.

The end.


End file.
